The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen)

Chapter 933

Chapter 933

Susan kept a harmless smile plastered on her face as she placated the men.

“There we go, that’s more like it.” The men were comforted by Susan’s words.

“Why don’t you guys figure it out?” suggested Susan.

The three men looked at each other, each one eager to be the first to step up.

Seeing them distracted, Susan eyed the exit, made a beeline for the door, flung it open, and dashed out.

“Stop her!”

The realization hit the men like a ton of bricks; they had been duped. They scrambled after her, but it was too late.

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Susan had sprinted out of the private booth and was now weaving through the crowded club.

With so many witnesses, the men couldn’t just drag Susan away without causing a scene..

Susan took refuge on the dance floor, a mass of gyrating bodies providing cover. When she was sure she wasn’t

being followed, she let out a sigh of relief. Thoughts of Lysander’s coldness and the men’s words gnawed at her.

Lysander only had eyes for high-class women!

And there she was, not making the cut, invisible to Lysander.

A bitter twist of anger coiled in Susan’s heart. How was she any less than Thalassa?

Thalassa, who grew up in some backwater town, exuded nothing but a bumpkin aura. High class? Hardly.

In contrast, Susan had been groomed in the arts of dance and piano, her upbringing a veritable fortress built of

cash and high expectations.

High society gatherings, designer brands-what hadn’t she seen?

Her world was poles apart from Thalassa’s. While Thalassa played in the mud, Susan had been mastering the arts.

There was no comparison!

Why did Thalassa catch Lysander’s eye and not her?

She wouldn’t give up. She was determined to be Lysander’s woman.

After all, Thalassa had vulnerabilities that her father could exploit, ensuring her cooperation.

Thalassa had left the bar, and with Susan off delivering drinks, she thought she’d head home.

Waiting for a cab by the roadside, Thalassa heard someone call her name.

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Turning around, Thalassa saw Callum approaching. “Ms. Everhart, in such a rush to leave? You haven’t delivered the

drinks to the private booth, have you?”

“You saw it yourself, someone else took over,” Thalassa replied.

Callum’s eyes twinkled with that characteristic charm of his, a gentle warmth radiating from his demeanor.

“Why don’t we sit over there and talk?” Callum gestured toward a nearby bench by a flowerbed. It was safer than

the roadside.

Thalassa recalled the last time Callum sought her out, and it was indeed for a reason. This time around, it likely

wouldn’t be for mere small talk.

Thalassa walked over to the bench, with Callurn following.

They took seats on the bench, with a respectful gap between them.

“Did you have something to discuss with me?” Thalassa asked.

A soft smile graced Callum’s lips-not a genuine expression of mirth, but rather the natural extension of his affable

personality. “You’re catching on,” Callum observed “You’re starting to understand Leopold’s intentions.”